Page 26 of Cold Foot Komodo

The unexpected compliment caught her off guard. “Th-thank you. I…” She frowned. “I feel lighter here, maybe.” She had definitely not expected anyone to notice the thing she’d actually been working on lately. She’d been trying to be less negative, because of a fear of ending up like her mother.

He scratched the short scruff on his jawline and swung his bi-colored gaze back to her. “I meant to be smooth about this, and just come to the door and ask you for your number.”

“My phone number?”

He sat up straighter and rested his hands on his knees, looking tense as he nodded curtly. “I mean, I probably need it to touch base with you in the morning. Maybe text you and seeif you’re awake…so we can leave on time. I have to start work early.”

“Oh. If you tell me the time you need me to be out there, I can meet you at your truck. I’m a very punctual person. You won’t have to worry about me making you late.”

He pursed his lips and nodded. “Yep. Yep. I was going to pick up some supplies for your house after I get off work tomorrow. Do you just want me to show up? Unannounced?”

“So you just want my phone number for professional reasons.”

He didn’t nod or shake his head no. Reed just sat there frozen. When he unfroze, he scratched his beard again and then stood. “You’re right. I’m sorry to interrupt girls’ night. This was…” He hung his head for a two-count, and then smiled up at her. “Does five in the morning work for you?”

“Absolutely.”

“I can stop at a coffee place I think you’ll like if we leave that early.”

She couldn’t help her shy smile. “That is very thoughtful of you. You’re going to hate the type of coffee I order. It has more sugar than caffeine, and will smell up your truck like holiday cookies.”

He cracked a smile. “I won’t hate it.” He swallowed hard and looked like he wanted to say more, but changed his mind and turned to leave.

“I don’t really give my number out for just professional reasons,” she called. Yeah, she knew she was fishing, but she couldn’t help it. She hadn’t done this in a long time, and she wanted a man to be clear with her.

“I totally get it,” he rushed out, and then told her, “Goodnight, Sasha,” and left, closing the door after himself.

Crap. Crap, shit, dung beetle. Farfignewton!

Sasha stood and rushed toward the front window to see if she could see him leaving, but the front door swung open and she yelped in startlement.

He seemed just as startled as her to find her standing right in front of him.

“I want to text you.”

He didn’t say anything else, and all intelligent thought had left Sasha. “Okay,” she said lamely.

He stepped back inside, and his eyes sparked with intensity. “I want to text you in case I have questions about what to get from the hardware store, but I also just like the idea of being able to send you a text. And I’m not pressuring you to respond. Fuck, I don’t know how to do this,” he said, doing an about-face and leaving the house again. He got to the porch stairs, and then turned back around and came back. “I’m a felon. I’ve been in prison. I barely remember how to talk to a woman, and I haven’t asked for a woman’s number in I-don’t-know-how-many years. I’m so acutely aware that I’m fucking this up and will be shot down, and I don’t blame you. I would shoot me down too. I just…” He inhaled deeply and looked up at the sky as if for inspiration, hands on his hips. He looked back at her and blew out a steadying breath. “Sasha, I would like your number so I can text you sometime, and maybe if I’m around your place on a lunch break, ask you to go to that 406 place for some wings.”

“Oh,” she said softly, the butterflies in her stomach rampaging. He was asking for her number, and potentially a date? Her…Sasha. “You like me?”

“I find you interesting, yes.”

She pursed her lips, and checked behind her to make sure Timber wasn’t watching them from the loft like some creeper. She twisted back around and crossed her arms over her chest, considering it.

“You can say no, and I’ll never ask for it again,” Reed said softly. “No harm, no foul. You barely know me.”

She pursed her lips, stalling, just to mess with him. He hung his head and smiled, shook his head, and then backed onto the porch. “Five o’clock sharp. I’ll have the truck warming up, you can just get straight in if I’m not already out there. Goodnight, Sasha.”

“Three zero seven,” she called after him.

Reed froze at the porch stairs, and turned just enough that she could see his cheek swell with his smile. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and typed in the number she recited.

Then he turned and held up the phone in a silent thank-you, and without another word, he jogged down the stairs and into the yard, headed in the direction of his cabin across the clearing.

She twisted around to find Timber standing exactly where she knew she would be, leaning against the railing of the loft above.

“That was so farting cute,” Timber said.

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